


Break My Heart, Why Dontcha?

by Padapuppy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, Incest, M/M, still brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:40:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padapuppy/pseuds/Padapuppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean always had a special relationship, and Sam had always been faithful.  This is what happened when Sam found out that, maybe, just maybe Dean didn't feel the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break My Heart, Why Dontcha?

Sam hated this. He knew it was a matter of time before he caved, but Dean was being his usual asshole self, and it really wasn't fair.

"Dude, you’re the one who applied, got accepted. That means it’s totally your responsibility to keep your grades up," Sam complained over the phone.

"Yeah, but, Sammy," Dean whined. “You’re the reason I went. So really, if you think about it, it’s all your fault and your responsibility."

"Dean, you know that’s not how it works." Sam said, but he knew he was close to caving. 

"Just help me study. It’s one class. That we’re both in. You’re good with, uhm, all the words and stuff. It’ll be a piece of cake for you. Just help me. Please. If I fail then I won’t be able to stick around, and you know you’d die without me in your life." Dean attempted, a slight chuckle in his voice that meant he was a little nervous.

It was stupid, Sam thought. Dean had no reason to be nervous. Despite the less than enthusiastic attitude Dean had when it came to all things academic, he was smart as a tack. Sam could recall Dean making things, useful things out of scraps. He was a genius, really. 

Still, it didn't mean Sam didn't want to see him. He groaned on the other end. “Fine," he gave in and told Dean when and where to meet him. His older brother owed him big time.

**

The where it turned out to be a quaint little coffee shop on the outskirts of town. The place had the basement turned into a library of sorts, and they had really good coffee. If Sam was going to attempt to help Dean not fail this class, he was going to need really good coffee.

After Sam and his precious coffee got settled downstairs, he passed the time waiting by going through all of his notes and finding the one’s he figured gave Dean the most trouble. If Dean bothered to actually _take_ notes, Sam doubted his brother would find things so difficult.

Dean showed up a full forty-five minutes after Sam did, and Sam had managed to make it through three cups of coffee before his arrival.

"Dean, you’re late. If you’re not going to take this seriously, then I can just go." Sam started packing away his things. He was irritated, and he had other things to do. Never mind the fact that Dean was here now and they could begin.

"Geeze, Sammy. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I had something to take care of, but I’m here now." Dean walked up to Sam and ruffled his hair before taking a seat at the small table.

"It’s Sam." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay." 

Sam passed over his books and notes, and for thirty minutes, things seemed to be going well. Dean was attentive and even had a solid grasp on the material. 

Yawning, Dean slumped back in the chair, his feet creeping up to rest on the table. Sam promptly knocked his brother’s feet to the floor. “Hey! What gives?"

"We’re here to study, Dean," Sam spat out, annoyance in his brother’s lack of interest in the subject matter.

"Is that right?" Dean inquired. Sam nodded, and his brother leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. “Well then. How about we take a break from English?"

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Are you failing another class?"

Dean shook his head and stood. “No," he whispered as he moved closer. “I was thinking..." Dean was in front of Sam, hands reaching out and grabbing his wrists. “I was thinking that maybe we could work on..." Dean had Sam on his feet now, his hands still grasping at his younger brother’s wrists. “Anatomy." Sam groaned as Dean pressed his lips to crush his own.

And that was maybe one the single lamest things to ever escape Dean’s mouth, but right now Sam couldn’t find it in himself to care. He moaned as Dean’s hands slid to grip his hips, pressing them closer together. 

This wasn’t new for them. The first time it had happened, Sam had been seventeen and Dean was twenty-one. Sam had felt wrong and dirty, but, in contrast, nothing in his life had ever made more sense, ever felt more right. Dean loved Sam, needed him more than anything. There was never any pressure, any urge to do more unless Sam wanted it. And Sam had wanted it, still wanted it. 

He loved the urgency he felt when Dean’s pressed close against him, when he felt Dean’s thigh slip between his own. He needed the feel of the Dean’s hands on his back, his mouth sliding to Sam’s throat as he runted helplessly against him. This, whatever they had between them, had been going on for three years. And for three years, they would fight, smile, pick, and jab. They were brothers above anything else, but underneath that, they were more. They just were, two souls that didn’t, that couldn’t function without the other.

As Sam bucked up against Dean’s hips, Dean let out a growl as he turned Sam around and pressed him down on the small table. Dean was standing still, leaning over him as he fumbled with his jacket. Hastily, Dean removed his coat and loomed over Sam. Instinctively, Sam locked his legs around Dean and urged him forward.

Dean chuckled, annoying Sam, but he reached for Dean's shirt anyway.

“Eager, aren’t we, baby boy?" And there it was again, that name that Dean had called Sam for as long as he could remember. But when he heard it like this, he nearly whimpered, so damn turned on. 

“I’ll take that as a yes," Dean crooned, the smile still plastered on his face as Sam’s arm hooked around Dean’s neck. Their mouths mashed together, teeth and tongues colliding in a heated frenzy as Dean rocked his body against Sam's. “You like that," Dean practically purred in Sam’s ears just before his teeth sank on the tender flesh of Sam’s neck. 

"Dean," Sam breathed, his voice hushed and wreaked. He could feel his orgasm building up as Dean rolled his hips desperately against Sam’s. Of course, that’s when it all went to hell.

A very feminine squeak interrupted them, and Sam flushed in embarrassment. No one knew they were brothers here, not in this town, but it was still unnerving when someone walked in on them. 

It’d happened before, Dean had somewhat of an exhibitionist streak. Usually Dean would just shrug it off before whispering absolutely filthy things in Sam’s ear about what he promised to do once he got them home. Sam did not expect what was about to happen next.

Dean scrambled off Sam like he was on fire. “Lisa, I, uh, can explain," Dean began, his voice oddly nervous. So, one of Dean’s friends walked in on him making out with a guy, surely they didn’t care about Dean’s sexual preferences. It was safe to say that Sam was confused. 

Sam sat up on the table, finger’s fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt while he watched the scene unfold before him. The girl, Lisa, was pretty, older than Sam with dark brown hair that hung low past her shoulders, her body was curved where it needed to be, and her eyes were a pretty brown that looked warm and inviting. The fact that her face was, in Sam’s eyes, without flaw and needed no make-up to look that way, made Sam hate her. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt oddly jealous of this young girl.

The girl looked at Dean intently, awaiting an explanation. “Well, Dean," she started, “Can you please explain to me why my boyfriend is making out with another man after he said he’d meet me upstairs ten minutes ago?" She didn’t seem to be too upset by the fact that Dean was apparently cheating on her, with a man, who happened to actually be his brother. But wait, boyfriend? Why was she calling Dean her boyfriend?

Dean looked back and forth between Lisa and Sam before answering. “I’m sorry," and Sam wasn’t sure if it was for his sake or the girls, but he had no intention of finding out. Quickly, he packed up his laptop, didn’t bother with the notes, and headed up the stairs. He had to get out of there fast. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All he could do is picture Dean on top of that girl, his mouth on hers, and it made Sam sick to his stomach. Dean was his, and they never talked about exclusivity, but surely it was understood. At least for Sam it was. 

Sam was not the tall and scrawny kid he was when he and Dean started this. Over the last few years, Sam had grown up, his body now toned with thick muscles. He had received plenty of attention from both sexes and had always refused because he belonged to Dean. There was no one else, there was no need, he had Dean and Dean was what he needed. Apparently, he wasn’t all Dean needed hence the hasty exit.

He exited the shop and took off down the street. He didn’t care about the rain that had started pouring out of the sky, nor did he care that his laptop was probably going to be ruined. All he cared about was getting out, getting somewhere safe where he could think, and possibly die. Sam didn’t notice Dean calling out his name, didn’t hear the footsteps racing behind him. Sam took shelter in a small alley, probably a mile from the coffee shop. It wasn’t actually shelter, the rain still pouring over his head, but the street was clean and deserted and Sam allowed himself to slide down against a wall until his backside made contact with the concrete below him.

Sam brought his knees close to his chest, his head sinking down, and Sam began to cry. He choked out silent, broken sobs as the rain poured overhead. 

He felt weak and pathetic, used in a way he couldn't even begin to describe. It wasn’t until he was being shaken violently from above that Sam noticed he was no longer alone. His brother stood before him, his face distorted and maybe a little angry, his whole body soaked. He didn’t have a right to be angry, not after what just happened.

"Sammy," Dean was whispering softly. "You’re gonna ruin your laptop, baby boy."

And Sam had had it. There was no way that Dean could call him that, not anymore. 

“You think I care?" Sam boomed, his body rising, “You think I give a damn about my computer right now?" 

To prove his point, Sam chucked the laptop against the wall behind him, causing parts of it to break off. Sam was going to regret that later, but right then, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he and Dean, whatever they had was done and over. “You think I give a fuck about a laptop, about getting wet? You honestly think I can even think about that after what you just did?" 

Sam was angry, more than that, he was enraged. He was standing now, and in that instant, Sam was glad he had finally grown up. His tall frame towered Dean’s as Sam pushed his brother against the brick wall. “None of it matters, Dean. None of it even compares to what you fucking did, big brother." The venom in Sam’s voice shocked Dean, he had never seen Sam like this.

Dean winced. “Sammy," Dean choked out. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was doing. I just, I thought that I wanted something different, that I needed to be sure, but, Sammy, it’s you. It’s always been you, always will be."

Sam wasn’t having it. His fists clutched at Dean’s shirt as he leaned in close. “You," he breathed, his mouth ghosting over Dean’s. "You _were_ mine." 

He backed away as Dean looked shocked, hurt, like he’d lost everything. Sam didn’t even know what he was doing as his fist connected with the side of Dean’s face, the blow leaving Dean on the ground. Sam looked down at his brother, the blood dripping from his mouth, the pained expression of his face, and he turned away. His feet felt heavy as he pressed them down on the concrete and broke into a run.

Hours later, Sam found himself at his apartment, hunched against the wall of his bedroom. He heard Dean let himself in, and Sam settled closer against the wall. 

“Sammy," Dean’s voice was light as he gently knocked on the door. 

Sam huffed. It would take more than just a hush whisper of his name to get him to respond. 

“Sammy," Dean called again as he turned the knob and let himself in Sam’s room. He was by Sam’s side in a matter of seconds, whispering soft apologies to Sam’s apparently deaf ear. 

“I-I don’t know what I was doing. She wasn’t my girlfriend, Sam. We just kissed a few times." Sam shuttered at the idea of someone else's lips on his brother, but Dean continued. “I just...I couldn’t believe that I had this, Sam, that I had you. You were mine, and everything was great, better than great, and I didn’t get why I got to be that lucky." Sam was still looking at the ground. “I told her to meet me there, Sam. I wanted her to see us together, to see what you do to me. I couldn’t, I wanted you to hate me, Sam."

Sam finally raised his head. Dean was crying, his eyes rimmed red and tears were slowly running down his face. Sam had never seem him look so afraid, not even when their mom's cancer finally took her away.

“I don’t hate you," Sam said softly. Dean smiled weakly and thumbed at the tears on Sam’s face. “I can’t. I don’t understand. Why, Dean? Why’d you want me to go through all of this; do you want to end this that badly?"

Dean was shaking his head, loose tears falling from his face. “No, Sam. Never. I want you to have an out. I know it doesn’t sound right, but I was thinking of you, Sam. I was-I’m tired of holding you back." 

Sam’s hands found Dean’s and interlocked their fingers. The wasn’t one of Dean’s lines. In his own way, Dean was trying to give Sam a way out, a way to escape any shame Dean thought Sam was feeling. “No, Dean. You’re not. We’re, this...it’s not perfect, but I love you. You’re my brother, Dean, nothing will ever change that. But it’s more, Dean. It’s, we’re," Sam tried to find the words that wouldn’t sound lame.

"Soul-mates," Dean supplied, and Sam was taken aback. Sure, Sam thought about that, but he had no idea that Dean felt that too. Sam nodded. “It’s like..." Dean said softly. “Like I can’t live without you, like I can’t breathe if I don’t know you’re alright. And I can’t ask you to forgive me, Sam. I won’t, but we could try to work on this, if you’re still in."

Sam laughed lightly, “Dean, it’s me. It’s done. I’m all in, always will be. I mean it, Dean. You are mine." Sam scooted closer to his brother and gently brushed his lips across the older man’s. 

"Yours," Dean agreed. Sam closed the gap and their lips met, softly at first before slowly building up momentum. Sam sucked, licked, and bit at his brother, his lover, his soul-mate’s mouth until the tang of copper rested on his tongue. 

Breaking the kiss, Dean panted, hips lips swollen and wet, the bottom one slightly cracked. “Love you," Dean breathed, and Sam didn’t have time to do anything but smile before Dean’s mouth collided with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, I think they're awesome.


End file.
